


Fever Dreams

by Thaum



Series: Of elves and dwarves [5]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Feelings, First Kiss, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Nursing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14374050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thaum/pseuds/Thaum
Summary: When Gimli starts to feel unwell, Legolas is concerned. When he doesn't get up the other day, he is really troubled. Never had he seen his friend that run down. He does not understand a lot of the diseases of mortals, but he is determined to help.A story about friendship and more. Though the title is crying out otherwise, no smutty smut, I am sorry.





	Fever Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roselightfairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselightfairy/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Roselightfairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselightfairy/pseuds/Roselightfairy) in the [2000GigolasFics](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2000GigolasFics) collection. 



> _Prompt: Dwarves are hardy, but they're still mortal. Gimli gets sick, and Legolas has to take care of him. (Because this idea is criminally underused.)_
> 
>  
> 
> English isn't my first language. Be nice.

Legolas was troubled. No, he was far beyond that point since two days. He thought, this had to be, what the dwarf once related to as "being scared shitless". He wished, he could have skipped that lesson in dwarfish. But now Elrond was here, if anyone could help Gimli, it had to be him. Legolas was sure, he had run a trail into the marblefloor in front of the door by now. The door of the room his friend always used to stay, whenever he accompanied him, visiting home. A room as far away from the royal quarters as possible. Better-to-be-safe. Certain people just should not take any chance to accidentally run into each other in the depth of night. Legolas was far too fond of all of them, to take that risk. But at the very moment these precautions were absolutely pointless because Gimli hadn't left said room for the last week, anyhow. And Legolas had found himself wishing more than once, that this room would not be at the other end of the palace and way closer to his own instead. When its door finally opened, he was there in an instant, looking hopefully into the thoughtful face of the most skilled healer of all middle-earth.

"I will send for some herbs, to ease his pain. But otherwise - all we can do is wait until it's over."

Legolas felt his heart drop. "What..? Is there.. there is nothing you can do..? How long..?" His voice was trembling and Elrond studied him closely with squinted eyes.

"I don't know", he said slowly, "Maybe a week, maybe less. It depends on his constitution."

Legolas swallowed and put a hand over his mouth, his eyes clearly shocked now. "So little..?! Will it be.. it be painful..?" he whispered.

Elrond stared at him for long seconds before he stepped closer to put a comforting hand at his shoulder. He looked rather concerned.

"Oh my dear boy.. ", Legolas had now tears in his eyes and Elrond shook his head, "Do not despair, it is nothing serious." He paused. "You believe he is going to die, don't you?" He shook his head again and pinched his nose, before he patted his back and chuckled mildly. Then he took his elbow and turned to lead the confused Legolas away from the dwarfs sickroom.

"I have studied the dwarven physiognomy for almost as many years, as I suffered through evenings of your fathers creative moods and too much wine. I am quite certain, I know just about everything, that can kill a dwarf. Let me assure you: the flu isn't one of them."

 

* * *

 

"Elrond gave me this. It will help a little." Legolas placed a steaming cup at the table alongside the bed and sat at the far away corner of it, looking down at Gimli.

The dwarf smiled thankfully and took a hearty swallow only to spit it out all over the blanket almost immediatlely. With a disgusted face he wiped over his mouth and beard, where at least half of the questionable liquid had been soaked up.

"Whoa.. that's nasty.. that tastes like.. like.. horse piss."

"Well, it is horse piss," Legolas responded without batting an eye.

Gimli stared open mouthed at the elf. "What??"

The former sighed and drew his hand over his face. "No, it isn't. It's a tea made from Elronds herbal reserves he uses to carry around. It will help with the headache. Try to drink it, you will feel better."

Gimli sipped at the cup again, cautiously this time and gulped it down. Meanwhile he didn't move his eyes off his friend sitting at the very other end of his mattress. He had his arms crossed and watched him sternly with an unreadable face.

"Why did you do that?"

"Why did I do what?"

"You know very well, what I am talking about. All these past days, you let me believe, you were seriously ill. Have you any idea, how much I worried about you?"

Gimli stared at his cup and fiddled with it, feeling uncomfortable.

"Would you have cared for me, the way you did, if you had known, that I just caught a cold?" He looked up and found a hurtful expression at Legolas face and winced. "I did not plan this, I swear.. but when you came in here that morning.. your concern.. your efforts to help me.. it felt so good.. but in hindsight I guess, it was a very selfish thing to do."

"That wasn't funny."

"No, I suppose it wasn't. I am sorry."

Legolas stood and Gimli looked warily up again to face him. He still couldn't decide, what exactly the elf was thinking. He had never seen him that way before. Gimli winced again. Oh what a fool he had been. A complete idiot. He earned every kind of punishment and rejection that was about to come out of this. He was sure, he had destroyed something very precious. Why could he not had just been content with the trust and friendship they had shared? Why had he to stomp at it like an olifant in a porcelain shop? He was a greedy dwarf. Or, sad as it was, simply a dwarf. Because he surely had proven every single prejudice about his kin to be true. He should engrave them at his helmet for everyone to see. _Stupid, greedy and coarse_. The elvenking would be going to have a field day about this and would be right so. He had absolutely no one else to blame for this mess, but himself. He dropped his head again, beaten, and for a while no one said a word.

"You know", Legolas eventually broke the silence that laid like a heavy weight between them, "All you had to do was ask." Legolas voice was soft and nothing, like Gimli had expected it to be. Honestly, he did't really expected him to say anything at all, because what could probably be left to say? Surely not the words he just had heard, bare of any accuse, anger and disappointment. He looked up again, puzzled, when the elf took the cup out of his hands and placed it carefully at the side table again.

"What do you mean?"

"You could have just asked me to do it."

"You mean, you would have spend your days here sitting next to a grumpy, coughing dwarf when you could be outside, jumping through the tree tops?"

"Everyday."

"You would have brought me tea and these elven bisquits that I crumbled all over the bed?"

"And tidied up afterwards. It would have been my pleasure."

"Really..?" Legolas nodded and Gimli swallowed. He did not deserve this forgiving, good-natured creature to be his friend. Far too kind for his own good. Far too innocent to get hurt by someone so oblivious to sense and sensibility like himself. And still, he couldn't deny that his heart wanted, what it wanted. Just as little, as he could get the memory of that night out of his head. The night he laid awake with a hazy feverish mind, lost in the light touch of smooth fingers at his face, unable to sleep. The night, that made it impossible for him to stop the farce he started, when he should. That night.. he gathered all his courage.

"And.. you would have stayed at my bedside for hours to wipe my forehead and cool it with your hands until the fever had gone down..?" 

Legolas studied him, a warm smile starting to grace his features. _Flawless_ was all, that Gimli could think of.

"I thought, you were asleep."

"No, I wasn't. I couldn't," he admitted to his own hands, which unfortuntely held no cup anymore to fumble around. His voice was a mere whisper, that only elven ears were able to hear.

Legolas sat slowly down again, next to him this time, like he had done that doomed night a few days ago. Gimli raised his eyes. He had seen the most beautiful gems in his life. Gems that no king was worthy of. Gems that shone like starlight, that had caused wars to start and ages to end. None of them could compare to the elf before him. None of them could rival the light and warmth that radiated off him.

"Like this..?" Legolas had raised a hand and put it gently at Gimlis brow, softly caressing the side of his face.

All Gimli could do was stare. This had to be a fever dream. It could not be real, but he would be the last one to complain. "Yes" he croaked out. 

"What else would you have asked me to do?"

"What?" Gimlis brain had quit its service. Well, that wasn't completely right. There were some thoughts, but dream or not - there was absolutely no possibility he could speak them aloud to this ethereal being that had leaned itself half over his immobile body and looked at him from under his lashes. His long, dark lashes. Oh fucking hell, this would be his end. He was about to die while having the most incredible fever dream he could imagine. So it hadn't been just a cold all along. How terrible. How wonderful. How terribly wonderful.

"I.. I.. don't know.. ", he stuttered, his traitorous heart beating almost painfully in his chest, obviously trying to leave his body. He wasn't able to catch a coherent thought. Everything in his head turned around the two most important questions there had ever been: If he could risk to blink and how on earth something could smell so good because nothing else clearly mattered.

"Liar," Legolas whispered, before he closed the distance between their faces to kiss him.

Gimli had not imagined dying to be that glorious. In fact, he would prefer it any day to anything else he could think of - when he would be able to think again. Slowly, as if not to break the spell, he kissed the elf back and raised his hands to drag his fingers through the silky long hair he had longed to touch for so long. There was absolutely no way, he was still alive, because this was heaven. Eventually the elf pulled away slightly and chuckled, his nose at his and a playful gleam in his eyes. 

"You are right," he said with a smile and laughed again mirthfully, when he noticed Gimlis confused look. He gently traced a long slender finger along his lower lip.

"It _does_ taste like horse piss."


End file.
